By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought) (18 page)

         “That’s it,” said Melissa.  “What do
you
do?”  If she had seen Cinder in her normal festhall type clothing, she would
have been sure that she was a whore.  Now, though, she only thought it highly
likely.

         “I sell perfume,” Cinder said proudly of
her first real job.  Then she looked at Dirk.   “Do they really do that?” she
asked, sounding rather simple, even Dirk had to admit.

         “Yep, they do.  But you’re right, they
are too pretty for that.”  He took Melissa’s hand.

         “What are we pretty enough to do? 
Prostitute?”  Fiona asked Cinder with an evil grin.

         “I meant it,” Dirk objected and Fiona
turned her softening gaze from Cinder to him.

         “You’re too kind,” quipped Fiona, her
serious eyes boring into his, though she was smiling coyly.

         “It’s true,” Dirk insisted, getting
angry.  “I bet I’m with three of the prettiest ladies in town.”  He pouted,
thinking that they might not believe him and seeing his evening fall apart
before his eyes; his entire life and growing happiness seemed on a precipice
that moment and he wondered if his worry was evident.

         “We believe you,” Fiona said.  “I’m only
picking on you.  We’re certainly with the strongest and most handsome man in
the city.”

         “Mm-mm,” Cinder agreed with a nod.

         “Isn’t he?” Fiona nudged Melissa.  They
all looked at her.  She frowned, but when Fiona kept needling her for an
answer, a smile grew over her face; a smile of embarrassment.

         “Yes.  I guess so.”

         “You guess so?” asked Dirk playfully,
teasing her as well, though blushing shyly.

         “Yes.  I said yes.  Don’t push your luck,
Dirk,” Melissa warned.

         “Well.  Why don’t we three show Dirky-poo
a good time?” Fiona asked.

         “Yeah,” Cinder agreed eagerly, touching
Fiona’s hand.  “That would be fun.”

         “He has a date,” Melissa said angrily,
looking at Fiona.

         “That’s okay, I’d like you to stay,” Dirk
said.

         “Who’s place should we go to?” Cinder
asked.

         “I thought you wanted to go out?” Dirk asked,
bewildered.

         “Not now.  Didn’t you here Fiona?” asked
Cinder.

         “Yes, I heard her,” he said.  “Have a
good time.  Right?”

         “Yes,” Cinder urged.  She looked at him
as if to say, “Don’t you get it?”  When he didn’t, she explained, “Love, Dirk. 
All of us.”  Dirk looked disgusted at Cinder, then at Fiona.  Melissa bore the
same expression as he.

         “What’s the matter with them?” he asked
Melissa.

         “Fiona’s a little weird sometimes,” said
Melissa, not taking the other women seriously.  “She’s just teasing.”

         “Thanks,” Fiona said, laughing, delighted
in the shock effect her wild behavior had on the more ‘straight-laced’, like
Dirk and Melissa.

         “That’s not weird,” Cinder objected.  “It
just depends on how exciting you want to be.”

         “Well, I don’t want to be
that
exciting,” scoffed Melissa.  Dirk nodded in agreement.

         “Come on, Fiona,” Cinder said, “let me
show you this table,” and they left Melissa and Dirk together.  “I think that
maybe they would like to be alone,” she said as they moved across the room.

         “Oh yeah?” Fiona asked, starting to
realize that maybe Cinder was not as dumb as she looked or acted.  “Aren’t you
serious with him?”

         “No.  We’re just good friends,” she said,
with a giggle to herself.  Fiona smiled and sighed in relief.  She was happy
that she did not have to hate or punish Cinder for stealing Dirk from her dear
friend.  Cinder seemed like someone Fiona wanted very badly to like, and have
like her back.

         Meanwhile, after several moments of initial
silence, Dirk and Melissa began to talk, even though it was just small-talk. 
Between sentences, Dirk tried to lip-read what Cinder and Fiona were saying,
but he saw nothing involving him.

         “Do you like her?” Melissa asked.

         “Do you like Fiona?” he asked in return.

         “Yes, do you like her?” Melissa repeated.

         “Yes.  She’s very interesting, and nice. 
We’re friends.”  Dirk did not want to play mind games or lie, finding the truth
so much easier and relaxing, so he spelled out simply what he felt.  “Don’t be
mad.  I like you and I can’t just have one friend.  I’ve never had many, and I
like you both so much.  Don’t try to make me give her, or any other friends,
up...please.”  It was that simple, and Melissa was sensitive enough to
appreciate his pleading look and realize how important it was to him.  How could
she deny such an honest appeal, even though it meant permitting him to spend
his time with a woman like Cinder?  She understood and felt most of her
jealousy fade as she smiled meekly.  Dirk smiled back.   In a way Melissa was
relieved:  Dirk had made her decision for her.  She would not worry about
trying to corral him.  She would just enjoy his friendship, and there her life
was instantly less complicated. Though she knew when she was home, alone, that
night the tears would flow. 

         And Dirk was relieved:  not only did he
now keep Melissa as a friend, but his problem of telling her about Cinder was
past, a great burden he had been preoccupied with for many days, even though
she had suspected he was involved with another woman for some time.  They soon
joined Cinder and Fiona, spending the next few hours together.  As the night
drew on, Melissa and Fiona went off together, and Dirk for a walk with Cinder.

         When they left the
Snapdragon
,
Dirk led Cinder back the same way they had come; heading south and home along
the waterfront.  “You have nice friends,” Cinder said squeezing his hand
between hers as it hung by his side.

         “Thank you,” Dirk replied, though still
uncomfortable at having met Melissa while out with Cinder.  While part of him
was relieved she knew about Cinder, he was still disappointed, as if Melissa
not knowing meant he really wasn’t doing anything wrong and now his
relationship with the half-elf would have to be dealt with anytime he was with
Melissa, changing the dynamics of their friendship.  And he was disappointed
that neither one of them seemed jealous of the other, as if he wasn’t worth
possessing.

         “Fiona’s very smart, and funny.”  Cinder
fell silent as they walked, raising his hand to her lips and kissing it
softly.  Dirk looked over at Cinder as she stared ahead.  He studied her:  her
enrapturing eyes, small nose, full pouting lips, her great hair falling softly
all around her.  “Melissa’s pretty,” Cinder said, still looking ahead. “You two
make a nice couple.”  Just then she glanced at him and a childish smile came to
her brightening face, her cheeks filling with the red of a full blush.  She
cast her eyes down a second, then back to his, her lashes fluttering
bashfully.  “What?” she asked, uncomfortable under his serious gaze.

         “Nothing,” said Dirk simply, thinking of
how Melissa had almost an identical reaction that first night in his room, so
demure, so soft, so smitten.  He smiled softly and pulled his hand away,
putting it around her shoulder, thanking the gods for his changing fortunes and
wondering slightly if somehow he would later pay fate for such happiness.  Dirk
realized then that Cinder was becoming more important to him everyday, and he
didn’t know where it would stop or how it would affect his emotions toward
Melissa.  While Cinder never said as much, she certainly alluded that she would
never be ‘his’ and what she did with him was, as he had tried to explain to
Melissa, was an odd sort of friendship.

         They walked a little farther in silence. 
When they approached a dive called the
Soused Serpent
, a man came flying
backwards out of the front door.  As Dirk led Cinder past the sprawled fellow,
several more spilled out onto the dock and began fighting all around.  Another
large group of men were coming up from the south and started running toward
them.  Two from the first group began to pummel Dirk, while three others
grabbed Cinder, fighting with each other to see who was to throw her over his
shoulder.  Then still more rushed out and drove off the first three, fighting for
the same privilege.  The group coming from the south rolled over the brawl like
a great wave, the men on Dirk and Cinder seeming to be washed away.  The
brawlers were matched in numbers but outclassed in tactics as the leader of the
newcomers barked orders, moving his men in concert to pummel the others
unconscious or toss them into the harbor to cool off.  As this force mopped up
its opponents and Dirk moved Cinder behind him to shield her, not knowing what
was then to follow, the leader turned and they recognized him as the Trendian
sailor who had called to them from his vessel.  His eyes sparkled as he bowed
and reached, unopposed, around Dirk to retrieve Cinder’s hand and grace it with
a soft and gentle kiss.

         “Glad to be of service, m’lady,” he said straightening. 
He then shook Dirk’s hand with a wink, called his men together, and led them on
their way still farther north, singing.  Several called and whistled, one even
tried to kiss Cinder but was pulled away by his shipmates and soon they vanished
into the darkness.

         Dirk sighed in relief and hurriedly took
Cinder home.  Regrettably, for Cinder, she could convince Dirk to stay for only
an hour before he kissed her good-bye and went on his way.

         Selric slipped in just ahead of the gate,
as it “clanged” to.  He peered out, watching the expensive carriage wheel away
down the street and disappear over the hill, its lanterns swaying as it rocked
back and forth over the uneven cobblestones.  He ran across the courtyard as
the Masters of the East had taught him:  as fleet as the wind, silently, and so
softly that he barely bent a blade of grass.  He approached the large double
doors and, peering in the windows which framed the portals, saw what he
feared:  two footmen.

         As Selric raced around to the rear of the
building he heard a deep bark.  Selric stopped as he saw the beast pursuing
him.   Large head and teeth, spiked collar, no tail:  it was a fearsome guard
animal.  Selric put his hand out, signaling it to stop.  The other hand he
raised to his lips.  “Shhh,” he whispered.  The dog approached, sniffing, its
tailless rump wagging in delight as it stood on its hind legs to lick Selric’s
face.

         “Princess, how are you?”  Selric rubbed
her floppy ears and kissed her wet nose.  When he heard the doors open he quickly
imitated flapping noises with his hands, accompanied by the cooing of a dove.

         “Leave the birds alone, stupid mutt,” one
of the guards yelled.  Selric patted his friend and together they raced to the
back door.  He opened the lock, patted Princess’s ribs, dropped a piece of
fresh beef liver into her mouth (carried knowing he was to see her again) then
shut the dog outside the door. 

         Selric slipped unnoticed past the cook in
the kitchen and the butler coming down the stairs, then found Lady Andrelin in
her bed, reading a love story by the light of a single lamp.  Selric walked in
to stand beside the bed, smiling.  She looked up from her book then threw it on
the floor returning his smile and pulling the covers down to reveal her body: 
she was dressed in a racy negligee, common on women half her age, though she
definitely wore it well, Selric thought.   She donned it every week, never
knowing which Bleday, the second day of the week, Selric would come that
month.  He blew out the light and got into bed.

         Selric lifted his head from between Lady
Andrelin’s generous endowments when he heard the gate open.  “The game seems to
have ended prematurely, m’lady,” he said.

         “But ours hasn’t,” she said, pulling
Selric’s face down and kissing him openly and wildly.  Selric obliged her
quickly as she moaned loudly, the bed rocking.  The gate closed, just as Lady
Andrelin and Selric did.  He kissed her to keep her quiet as they slid over
each other’s slick bodies in the night heat. 

         Selric knew that Lord Andrelin was aware
of his wife’s attraction to Selric, and vice-versa, since he never failed to
angrily mention it to Selric’s father at every social function.  Selric also
knew that Lady Andrelin attempted to be caught with Selric each time; but he
knew when to come and when to go.  He watched out the open window as he pulled
on his pants and boots, threw his sword over his back, and stuffed his shirt
loosely inside his pants.  Lady Andrelin was touching him all over, hindering
his escape, but he had no need to get rough and he let her play her games. 
Selric still had one ally; his old friend Princess.

         The wagon was parked below the window,
the driver looking up toward it and Selric.  Selric ducked back into the
shadows, still unseen.  Lord Andrelin walked towards the doors below.  “You
stupid bitch.  Are you blind?” he asked Princess as she sat dumbly watching her
master.  He kicked her and she growled as Selric climbed up into the window
expectantly.  He turned and kissed the Lady farewell once more as she clung
feebly to him.